


Golden Strands

by acciomerlin



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Era, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Reincarnated Arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-24 03:41:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23003374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acciomerlin/pseuds/acciomerlin
Summary: Combing Arthur’s hair every morning hadn’t been a part of Merlin’s duties when he’d first been appointed his servant. However, like many other things, it had rapidly become one.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 110
Kudos: 714





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I got this prompt from my lovely mutuals on Twitter when they pointed out how domestic the implication was that Merlin seemed to comb Arthur's hair every morning and Arthur was utterly helpless without him. 
> 
> Well, this is my first Merlin fic and the first fic I've posted on ao3 as well. It's also really really short, so I do apologise for that. 
> 
> Anyway I hope you enjoy it! Please do spare kudos/comments for my poor Merthur heart.
> 
> UPDATE: I've decided to add a few more chapters to this as soon as I get the time!

Combing Arthur’s hair every morning hadn’t been a part of Merlin’s duties when he’d first been appointed his servant. However, like many other things (like saving his life every other day), it had rapidly become one, much to Merlin’s faux chagrin.

The whole ordeal had started innocently enough.

It was a couple of months after Merlin had been in Arthur’s service and things were going really well, not that either of them would ever admit it. 

The day didn’t feel different. Everything had gone like it always did. Merlin was late, because of which Arthur was woken up late too and now both were rushing through their tasks while cursing each other; Arthur doing it obnoxiously loud and Merlin with sharp glares and insolent muttering. 

Arthur was to join his father for an official meeting with the nobles of the court that morning and he was in blind panic. His father already loved to point out all his shortcomings; he didn’t need pathological tardiness added to the list as well (though he was definitely going to add it to Merlin’s). 

“Merlin,” called Arthur, stuffing a piece of bread in his mouth and collecting the reports lying haphazardly on the table. Honestly, nobody would even be able to tell by the state of his bedchamber that he had a servant.

Merlin looked up from making up the bed. “Yes, sire?”

“Polish my armour, would you? I’ll need it for the training with the knights later,” Arthur said, moving towards the door with a handful of messy parchments that definitely didn’t look like confidential state reports. 

“As you wish,” mumbled Merlin darkly.

Arthur rolled his eyes and turned to face Merlin. “Be careful, I can have you thrown in the stocks for that tone.”

He could hear his friend scoff at that but he made no further retorts and finally moved to leave because as much as he enjoyed this banter, he genuinely didn’t have time for it.

“Arthur, wait!” rang out Merlin’s voice just as he was about to open the door.

“What now?” groaned Arthur impatiently.

Merlin sighed and walked across the room to come in front of him. Arthur raised his eyebrows questioningly. 

“You’re just trying to waste my time now, aren’t you?” 

“Don’t flatter yourself,” replied Merlin. “It’s your hair. It looks like a bird’s nest. Not at all princely.”

Arthur touched his hair self-consciously and huffed. “Well, what’s wrong with it?”

Merlin opened his mouth to answer but closed it again…and before Arthur knew what was happening, Merlin’s hands were in his hair and it was all Arthur could do to not melt into a puddle right there and then. 

It didn’t take longer than a few seconds but Arthur would always vividly remember how it felt to have Merlin’s calloused fingers run through the strands, unknotting and smoothing them. 

It was possible that Arthur might have stopped breathing momentarily, a condition which was worsened when he noticed how bloody close Merlin was standing. Arthur could count his eyelashes if he wanted, not that he’d ever do such a thing. Please. If someone asked him about his manservant’s eyelashes, Arthur certainly wouldn’t know anything about how thick or long or dark they were.

Good lord, Arthur was going barmy with this strange proximity. Did the fool have no concept of personal space? He really was more trouble than he was worth.

Merlin must have noticed Arthur’s silence and the shift in his body language because he stopped his movements and shifted his gaze downward to Arthur’s face, his deep blue eyes clear and inquisitive. 

Arthur swallowed, suddenly feeling too warm under the collar and could do nothing but stare back like a fool. Things really could not be worse. 

Merlin’s lips quirked up knowingly and he stepped back, dusting Arthur’s tunic for good measure, his hands lingering slightly. 

“All done,” he declared, looking at Arthur way more intensely than the situation warranted. 

Arthur, having finally come to his senses, cleared his throat and clutched the reports tightly. “Right. Thanks. I’ll be uh- leaving now.”

Merlin grinned like the little devil he was and said, “Do invest in a comb, my lord. I promise you it’s worth it.”

“Shut up, Merlin,” Arthur said, suppressing a smile of his own as he left the bedchamber at last, ordering his traitorous heart to calm down. 

It didn’t work. His heart was just as defiant as Merlin…and Arthur wouldn’t have it any other way.


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur didn’t know if Merlin did this on purpose or if there really was something extraordinarily wrong with him, more so than everyone already suspected.

“Merlin,” he said with thinly veiled annoyance, as Merlin attempted to clasp Arthur’s ceremonial robe. “I know you think you’re special but the feast isn’t exactly waiting for you to get started.”

“It’s stuck!” snapped Merlin, obviously getting a little irritated himself. He fumbled helplessly with the clasp. “What do you want me to do?”

“Uh, try being competent at your job?” suggested Arthur.

Merlin sighed, shooting him an exasperated look. “Are you sure you don’t just want a new servant?”

“Well, I’m stuck with you, aren’t I?”

“Are you? I’m happy to step down.”

“Shut up Merlin and hurry up!” said Arthur, effectively ending the conversation. He was unwilling to even entertain the thought of not seeing Merlin’s stupid face every day. It wasn’t that he was too fond of him or something like that; he just liked to adhere to a routine and Merlin was a big part of it. That was all.

Merlin rolled his eyes insolently, just as the clasp finally fit into place. “There.”

“Thank you,” Arthur mocked, adjusting the robe a little.

“You’re welcome,” fired back Merlin. “Now let’s go.”

Arthur gave a dry laugh, crossing his arms. “It’s astonishing how often you give me orders.”

“Someone’s got to,” mumbled Merlin, as he went to the door.

“Wait!” Arthur said suddenly. “Something’s missing.”

Merlin stopped in his steps and looked him up and down. “Everything seems fine, Arthur.”

“My coronet!” Arthur said. “Where is it?”

“Oh!” exclaimed Merlin, moving across the room to the chest of drawers beside the bed. “Of course. It’s right here.”

He opened one of the drawers and stared.

“Uhhh,” he hesitated, rapidly trying the other drawers.

Arthur raised his eyebrows. “Well?”

Merlin turned around and gave him a tight smile. “So we might have a problem. A small one. A teeny-weeny tiny little proble –”

“Merlin.”

“The coronet’s not here.”

“WHAT -!”

“Oh, calm down. It should be around here somewhere,” Merlin assured him, running a hand through his hair and looking around the chambers at the various cabinets and drawers and cupboards with narrowed eyes, as if they’d conspired against him and hid the coronet somewhere.

“Merlin, I swear if you’ve lost my coronet –”Arthur warned, pointing his index finger at Merlin threateningly, not that that had ever worked in the past.

Merlin laughed awkwardly. “I haven’t lost it,” he said unconvincingly.

“You don’t sound so sure!” cried Arthur.

“God Arthur, would you please be quiet for a moment? I’m trying to think,” said Merlin, pinching the bridge of his nose and screwing his eyes shut in concentration.

The –the nerve of him! Arthur couldn’t believe this. _Merlin_ had misplaced his coronet right before an important event and he was asking _Arthur_ to be quiet. Honestly, when had he stopped putting Merlin in the stocks and _why?_

“Think? You can do that?” he asked in a biting tone.

“Got it!” Merlin declared, rushing to the far end of the room to the folding screen, beside which was a hidden compartment in the wall.

He opened it with clumsy hands and proudly brandished the gleaming coronet from there, grinning widely.

Arthur shook his head in disbelief, propping his hands on his hips. “Honestly, Merlin…you are a wonder.”

Merlin rolled his eyes and held out the circlet to him. “Here.”

Arthur made no move to take it from him. “What about my hair?”

“Your hair,” repeated Merlin, and then exhaled tiredly. “You couldn’t have combed your own hair while I was searching for your precious coronet?”

“It’s _your_ job,” Arthur informed him.

“Is it really?” Merlin questioned, cocking his head to one side. “Besides, it looks fine.”

“Oh it does, does it?” said Arthur. He held eye-contact with Merlin and proceeded to push a hand through his own blond hair, ruffling it so that it stood up on all ends and wasn’t at all presentable. That’d teach him.

“How about now?” he asked, smirking ever so slightly.

Merlin gaped at him incredulously. “I can’t believe you just did that,” he said slowly, “when _you_ were the one harking on about being late a few minutes ago.”

“The damage is already done,” Arthur said smiling, counting this as a win.

Merlin shook his head in a way that made Arthur feel less proud of his victory, which was rather unfair if you asked him.

Merlin forcefully grabbed the comb from the dressing table and stepped into Arthur’s space to run it through his now horribly messy hair. Arthur suppressed a contented sigh as the pleasurable feeling of someone else touching his hair swept over him. He observed the light from the candles that fell on the panes of Merlin's cheekbones, making them look even sharper and casting a shadow on one side of his face which gave him an enigmatic air.

Well, he couldn’t be blamed for this. He had nothing else to do just standing there, might as well enjoy the view.

Finally, Merlin was able to get his hair to stay put and he grabbed the coronet lying beside them on the table to place it on Arthur’s head.

Arthur sucked in a breath. This was the first time Merlin had done that.

Arthur didn't need to wear his coronet every day and when he did during special occasions, he wore it himself. There hadn't ever been an opportunity for Merlin to do it. Until now.

The moment held a certain intimacy that made Arthur's stomach clench. The intricate headdress in Merlin's dainty fingers as he gently placed it on Arthur's head, his lovely eyes fully focused on the task, the way he adjusted it and pushed Arthur's hair back from his forehead. It was almost too much.

Arthur's eyes involuntarily went to Merlin’s lips. They were parted and bitten into a bright pink colour. As he stared at them, he wondered, just for a moment, how it would be like to tip Merlin’s chin down, lean in and just…

No, no, _no._ He couldn't think about this. Not right now. He should have other pressing matters on his mind. Like the feast. The feast with the very important foreign dignitaries certainly took precedence over how attractive he found his manservant.

Merlin glanced at him curiously. "Is everything okay?"

"Fine," he said tightly, swallowing through the uncomfortable lump that had formed in his throat. "Just don't let my wine glass go empty tonight, no matter what."

Merlin grinned and nodded, his little dimples peeking out on both cheeks, which always meant trouble for Arthur. He averted his eyes and quickly took several steps back, lest he gave in and did something horribly inappropriate.

Merlin took one last look at Arthur’s appearance and gave his silent approval.

Arthur pretended to not notice when Merlin’s eyes lingered in a few places. After all, he’d extended Arthur the same courtesy.

However, if anything were to happen _after_ the feast under the influence of copious amounts of wine…well, he was hardly to blame.

Merlin, he soon found out, agreed.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, just wanted to give a quick shoutout to my friend Melusha! She deserves all the credit for her hand in making all these chapters happen :') I wasn't going to continue this story but Mel inspired me so much and gave me such a solid plot that I just had to. I hope I'm doing it justice xx

Arthur was gazing listlessly out the window, looking but not really seeing.

It was a beautiful day, he noticed. The storm clouds of the previous night had cleared up, giving way to a clear blue sky and the sun beating down on the streets of Camelot. The citizens were milling about, going about their daily business.

How –how was it that everything looked so normal and yet Arthur’s entire universe had just been turned upside down? How was the world moving, always moving and yet he was stuck in this strange, melancholic limbo –feeling and unfeeling at the same time? It made him furious that everyone was allowed to move on with or without him. It filled his mind with a deep sense of injustice.

But he didn’t stir from his spot by the large window. Just continued staring out, his arms numb and lifeless by his side.

A hand touched his shoulder and he slowly turned to see Merlin standing behind him, his mouth in a tight line. He looked at Arthur in that intense, meaningful way of his and Arthur knew. He knew that it was time. His mind rebelled at the thought but his legs followed Merlin instinctively.

It was time for the coronation. His coronation. Arthur’s coronation. Where he would be crowned king. King of Camelot. He knew this day was coming, had been made to prepare for it since birth and yet, he felt like a lost child; scared and clueless. His father would be disappointed.

 _His father_.

The thought of him hit Arthur like a bolt of lightning, making his eyes burn as tears collected in the corners. He still hadn’t fully registered that his father was _gone_. He knew Uther had not been a very good man but that didn’t seem to matter at the moment, because he was still his father. Still the man who had raised Arthur, tough and strong.

Arthur couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that he had lost both his parents. Surely, it couldn’t be. Surely, it had been a fever dream. Surely, Arthur would not be asked to run this enormous kingdom _all on his own._

His heartbeat quickened at the thought and he balled his hands into fists to keep them from shaking.

Merlin was looking at him expectantly. Arthur swallowed and stepped forward to allow Merlin to dress him for the coronation. It felt nauseating to wear such fine clothes –as if it were a celebration, when his father had just _died_ a few hours ago. It made him want to rip them off and burn them, all of them.

Merlin was quiet as he dressed him, both of their movements mechanical. As always, Arthur observed him. His friend looked anguished, _tormented_ and for some reason it felt more than just the sharing of his prince’s grief. His eyes were rimmed red and his skin ghostly pale, serving as a startling contrast to his dark hair. He looked haunted and Arthur didn’t know why.

Despite Merlin’s silence though, Arthur felt his support –steadfast and resolute. He didn’t know how to explain it but there was way Merlin made him feel secure with his unwavering belief and confidence in Arthur just when he needed it most. And he hadn’t ever needed it more than he did now. Merlin’s presence gave him the reassuring feeling that he would always be by Arthur’s side, no matter what and Arthur couldn’t convey how relieving that was.

Time seemed to be going agonisingly slow and it felt like ages before Merlin picked up the comb to brush Arthur’s hair.

The minute the comb touched his head, Arthur relaxed involuntarily, his stiff muscles going lax. It was a moment of escape. His eyes closed on their own and allowed himself to enjoy the feeling. Merlin was gentler than he had ever been before, and Arthur felt cared for.

…until it all came flooding back without warning.

It was too much. It was all too much. Arthur suddenly felt suffocated, like all the air in the room had vanished.

He took a shuddering breath, biting on his lower lip to keep from making any sound. However, his eyes, traitorous as they were, let a single tear slip out.

He stilled, his heart beating loudly in his chest, wondering if Merlin had witnessed this moment of weakness.

Before he could lift a finger to hastily wipe it away, he felt Merlin’s hand on his face, lightly running his thumb over the solitary tear.

Arthur raised his eyes in surprise to find Merlin already looking at him, his gaze steady.

"Merlin" he whispered, and Arthur hated how strangled his voice sounded. It was pathetic. He detested himself for being like this, so weak and fragile when an entire kingdom was waiting for him, depending on him. What kind of pitiful ruler were they going to have?

Merlin seemed to sense his inner turmoil, for he suddenly looked heartbroken, as if it killed him to see Arthur like this.

His hand still on Arthur’s face, he slowly leaned in and kissed him softly. It was a slight brush of lips, there was nothing sexual or romantic about it.

It was a promise.

Arthur savoured the moment, all of it. The quiet, comforting warmth of Merlin in his chambers before he had to go out in the cold and face his kingdom, be a strong king to his people, no matter how hurt and distraught he felt inside. He couldn’t let it show, could never reveal his pain.

The thought made his throat close up but Merlin’s hand on the small of his back made it easier for him to breathe.

Arthur knew he would always solace here. No matter what happened, he could always come back here and lay his soul bare, all of the pain and self-doubt and grief out in the open. He didn’t know how but Merlin understood it, understood it so well that it almost made Arthur feel that he had gone through much more in his life than he let on. It made Arthur’s heart swell up with fierce protectiveness.

As a strong pillar of support, Merlin quietly led Arthur to the Great Hall, to his future.

And in the sea of despair, fear and tragedy in Arthur’s life, a ray of hope shone through.

It was the same hope he saw in Merlin’s eyes every day.

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

Merlin leaned his head against the hard wooden door, clutching the handle so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He tried to regulate his breathing, tried to gather the courage to open the door but –but _it was so hard._

Merlin could destroy an army with a flick of his wrist but opening the door to Arthur’s room was killing him inside. He’d thought that after two whole months, he was ready to do this but he wasn’t so certain anymore.

The perpetually present lump in his throat seemed bigger than ever in that moment, making it difficult for him to breathe. He wasn’t sure he’d breathed at all since that day. Not really…not in the ways that matter.

Out of nowhere, a surge of determination rose up in him and he took the opportunity to turn the handle and step inside, quickly closing the door behind him.

Merlin froze on the spot as his eyes took it all in, his brain processing sluggishly. It looked the same, exactly the way they’d left it before Camlann. He remembered their last interaction in this chamber, how disappointed and hurt Arthur had looked when Merlin had told him he couldn’t accompany him to the battle, and Merlin had to close his eyes as dizzying pain shot through his heart at the memory.

He swallowed forcefully to clamp down the onslaught of tears that was readying itself to rise any second.

 _No,_ he scolded himself. He couldn’t start crying already, it wasn’t even lunchtime yet. He had to get a grip on himself. He imagined Arthur laughing at him for being such an emotional fool but the image only made it hurt more, giving him the sharp realisation of what he was missing.

As he forced his feet to slowly move across the space, a thousand memories flitted in front of his eyes. Arthur laughing, Arthur sleeping, Arthur reading state reports, Arthur anxiously ranting to Merlin, Arthur gazing at him over his wine glass with _that_ look in his eyes, Arthur… Arthur… _Arthur._

Every spot, every object, every inch of the room made him recall different moments, all of them preciously preserved in his mind, like everything related to Arthur was. All the emotions associated with these memories also seeped through them; happiness, anger, fear, love, pain. It was _overwhelming._ Nothing could’ve prepared Merlin for this.

Merlin touched the satin soft pillows on the bed, pointedly ignoring the single strand of golden hair lying atop them. He wondered if the pillows still smelt like him. It felt wrong to find out.

He wandered around till he reached the dressing table. He didn’t dare look in the mirror above it; he knew what would be staring back. He looked down instead, his eyes moving across the various small bottles and perfumes and…Merlin stopped short, his breath hitching. There lying on the table was Arthur’s comb.

He picked it up with trembling hands, lightly fingering the empty spot where one tooth of the comb had broken, leaving a gap in its place. He sighed and smiled ruefully, not being able to help but remember how that had happened.

* * *

Merlin tied the knots of the sling he’d made for Arthur’s arm, making sure to occasionally shoot venomous glares at the stupidest king he’d ever had the misfortune to meet. Arthur, to Merlin’s intense annoyance, just looked amused in response.

As Merlin’s hands skimmed across Arthur’s bare skin, the insufferable bastard smirked and tried to catch Merlin’s eyes but in vain.

“Oh, come on!” he said finally, as Merlin evaded his subtle advances once again. “When are you going to stop pouting?”

“I’m not pouting,” Merlin hissed, surveying his handiwork with the critical eye of an almost qualified physician. “I am brooding, and I will stop doing it when you stop being a pain in the arse.”

Arthur laughed, as if it were some big joke to him. “Well, not very soon then, I think,” he said.

Merlin shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest in quiet defiance. “Well, that’s up to you. Anyway, if there’s nothing else my lord, I’ll be leaving –”

“ _Merlin_ ,” Arthur whined. “Don’t be like that. What are you so upset about anyway? We killed the minotaur, didn’t we?”

“Just barely!” exclaimed Merlin, his anger bursting out. “What if your skull had been broken instead of your arm?”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous, I had it under control.”

“Under control?” asked Merlin, nose flaring in anger. “So you had it under control when you were being trampled to death by a terrifying mythical creature you know nothing about? Thanks, I feel _much better._ ”

Arthur stared at him, offended at once. “Merlin! That’s not how it happened and you know it. You’re just making it sound worse than it was and –”

As he rambled on, Merlin eyed the little piece of twig that was making its way from Arthur’s dirty blond hair to his eyes. With his luck, it would probably jab the pratty king in the eyeballs and he’d go blind, making Merlin’s job even more difficult.

He groaned inwardly. It was late in the night and Merlin was _not_ about to draw Arthur a bath at this ungodly hour. He thought of the simpler alternative and viciously grabbed the comb kept on the dressing table, running it through Arthur’s hair roughly, watching all the leaves and dirt fall out of it.

Arthur winced, and said with gritted teeth, “A little gently, please?”

Merlin expertly ignored him.

Suddenly, the comb caught on a particularly stubborn knot and Merlin’s harsh movements caused one tooth of the comb to break over it and rip out a handful strands of Arthur’s hair in the process.

“OW!” Arthur cried out in pain. “MERLIN!!”

Merlin stared in horror at the broken blond hair tangled in the comb and hastily hid it behind his back.

“For someone who’s upset that I got injured, you sure have no problem inflicting even more bodily harm on me!” shouted Arthur, his blue eyes wide with outrage.

Merlin grimaced. Well, he did feel a _little_ guilty.

“Well, I’m sorry about that,” he said haughtily, gathering the little dignity he could find. “But that doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you for idiotically throwing yourself in harm’s way.”

Arthur blinked in surprise, his momentary anger fading away. “Not forgiven me for –what on earth are you talking about?”

Merlin pursed his lips. The thing was that he was aware that it wasn’t really a big matter of importance for Arthur but he didn’t know how to tell him that Merlin’s heart had _stopped_ when the minotaur had nearly crushed Arthur’s head, didn’t know how to explain that the horrifying moment was permanently burned into his retinas.

Merlin was born to protect him, and he had almost failed to do it. Losing Arthur was his worst fear –just the thought of it made him lose his mind. He valued Arthur’s life above his own and Merlin didn’t know how to tell him that without spilling every detail about their shared destiny in the process. He wasn’t sure he was ready for _that_ conversation yet.

Merlin sighed and in the end, settled for muttering, “I was just –I was scared. Alright?”

Arthur’s gaze softened. “Merlin –”

But with eyes downcast in embarrassment Merlin was already turning to leave, his cheeks burning up.

Arthur swiftly caught his wrist and Merlin’s heart skipped a beat. He swore under his breath, praying that Arthur wasn’t about to use his extremely persuasive powers on him.

Arthur slowly turned him around, his eyes earnest. “I’m sorry for scaring you…and for belittling your feelings. I truly am.”

Merlin nodded, swallowing. “Thank you,” he said and then half-heartedly frowned at him. “Now was that so hard?”

The tension in the room lifted slightly, and Arthur bit back a smile.

“Apologising?” he said. “Immensely hard.”

“Hmm,” Merlin said solemnly, backing up slowly. “Being a decent human being always has been a tough area for you.”

Arthur sauntered towards Merlin, his stance somewhat predatory. “Isn’t it?” he said contemplatively. “You’ll help me with it, won’t you? Seeing as you’re such a ninny.”

Merlin grinned, shaking his head. “Is that any way to talk to someone who just saved your life?”

“Saved my life?!” repeated Arthur incredulously. “Now that’s exaggerating it a little!”

Merlin shrugged casually. “Just stating facts, Your Highness.”

The next thing he knew, Arthur had rather effectively pinned him against the wall and their faces were mere inches apart.

Merlin’s heart quickened in response but he didn’t let it show on his face.

Arthur smiled sweetly and murmured, “Now what were you saying?”

His uninjured hand traced the inside of Merlin’s wrist.

Merlin raised his eyebrows, unimpressed. He leaned forward, watching with glee when Arthur’s lips parted and his gaze fell to Merlin’s mouth.

Then with a strategically placed elbow to Arthur’s wounded arm, Merlin shoved him back, eliciting a surprised gasp from the king. Merlin proceeded to gently push him on to the bed. He removed Arthur’s boots and stuffed one of the fluffy pillows under his head.

“You need to rest,” Merlin commanded sternly, suppressing a smile. “Physician’s orders.”

Arthur was gaping at him. “No fair! I had no idea you played these kinds of games, Merlin.”

Merlin smiled cheekily. “There’s much you don’t know about me, sire. Now get some sleep. By the way –”

Arthur looked at him questioningly. “What now?”

“Apology accepted.”

* * *

* * *

A hesitant smile tugged at Merlin’s lips as the memory played in his head. He wiped at the wetness around his eyes and carefully pocketed the comb.

Taking one last look at the room, he opened the door to exit…leaving a thousand treasured moments behind.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone is enjoying this! Next chapter will be the last :( I'm sad about that.
> 
> Thanks for reading and do comment any feedback or thoughts you have about the story! Love you all.
> 
> EDIT: Okay some people are saying it's not clear if Arthur is dead in this chapter. Just for the record, HE IS. It's basically Merlin going into his room for the first time after Arthur's death and then getting a flashback after seeing the comb.


	5. Chapter 5

Arthur gave a start as the infernal noise blared for the fifth time that morning. He clutched at his chest and tried to calm the heart that was beating in overdrive inside. He was sitting fully-clothed on the edge of the tub in the bathroom, staring at the irritatingly proportionate tiles on the walls. Arthur had somewhere to be but clearly, he needed a moment first.

 _Car horns_. _That’s what Merlin had called them_ , he remembered. _Cars_ , apparently, were metal boxes that ran on something called _fuel_ and that's how people transported these days and there were no horses to be seen anywhere.

Arthur was gripped by the sudden urge to laugh hysterically. This was surely a dream. No matter how many days passed, he just couldn’t wrap his head around this. He could not possibly be _1500 years_ in the future, leaving every vestige of his past life behind.

_Except one._

As if on cue, Merlin lightly rapped on the door and called, “Arthur? Is everything alright in there?”

Arthur could detect the hint of panic that was lacing his words. He sighed and begrudgingly opened the door to reveal a slightly harried Merlin who looked like he’d anxiously ran his hands through his dark hair one too many times.

Arthur gave him a look. “Where would I run from the bathroom, Merlin?” he asked.

Merlin attempted to give him a casual smile that looked utterly forced. “I wasn’t worried or anything,” he lied. “It had just been a while since you’d gone in, that’s all.”

“I’m fine,” Arthur lied too. This was a thing they did now; lie to each other constantly despite knowing that the other could see right through them. It was a futile activity, but nobody said they were the smartest pair in the world.

Arthur stepped out, picked up the thick black coat that was lying on a chair and put it on, still not used to the strange clothing of this century. He hardly ever looked in the mirror, because the person staring back at him seemed nothing like him and Arthur almost suffered an identity crisis each time.

It had been exactly twenty-eight days since Arthur had awoken. According to Merlin, he’d just slept through the first four. When he was finally conscious, he broke down completely after hearing what had happened, unable to go out of Merlin’s little cottage and face the bizarre world outside. Staying inside allowed him to be in denial for a little longer, which was a small comfort, so that’s what he did; he refused to leave the cottage for twenty-four days, preparing himself for the eventuality when he’d have to.

And…that happened to be today.

Merlin had been by his side the entire time, patient and considerate. Arthur could not be more grateful.

As Arthur made his way to the small kitchenette for a glass of water, Merlin trailed behind him.

 _He likes to keep me close,_ Arthur realised and his chest constricted at the thought of everything Merlin must have gone through in the many centuries he’d been alive, waiting, waiting for _him_. It was only natural that he had a bit of a fear of abandonment. God knew Arthur had some severe psychological damage himself.

After being holed up inside for so many days, Arthur was growing increasingly restless but his anxiety of seeing the outside world –of not seeing Camelot in it–refused to lessen at all. It was a highly conflicting and deeply unsettling combination of emotions to feel and Arthur was definite that he was losing his marbles.

“So,” said Merlin, leaning against the back of the faded red _sofa_ in the living room, his sweater riding up a bit as he crossed his arms. Arthur tried not to stare. “I think we should start small so it’s not too much for you. Baby steps,” said Merlin.

“I’m not a baby, Merlin,” objected Arthur, scowling.

“Debatable,” answered Merlin with a smirk. “But I’m just saying let’s not take on a lot for one day. I don’t want you to get overwhelmed. How about we just go to a café I like nearby and have coffee?”

To Arthur, all that had sounded like pure gibberish. “Go _where_ and have _what_?”

Merlin rolled his eyes, and barely suppressed a fond smile. “It’s an eatery and coffee’s a drink that I am sure you’re going to love,” he explained.

Arthur nodded, his apprehension easing up a bit. All he had to do was go to some place they served food and have a weird-sounding drink Merlin swore by. Okay, he could do that. That was easy. Wasn’t it?

Sensing his tension Merlin touched his elbow, sending an electric zing through Arthur’s body, and said reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Arthur. It will be fine, I’m with you.”

Arthur nodded again, this time with more conviction and was about to follow Merlin to the main door when he caught his reflection in the small adornment hanging on the wall that had a mirror in the middle. He stilled, taken aback. _What was wrong with his hair and was Merlin really going to allow him to go in public like that? He was a king and he had to maintain some standard of –_ he stopped the thought abruptly, not really in the mood to venture into that territory. He wasn’t a king anymore. He didn’t know what he was.

“Merlin,” he said, eyeing the warlock dubiously. “Were you not going to mention that my head looks like a poorly constructed bird’s nest?”

“Oh,” Merlin said, his gaze landing on Arthur’s hair. “It’s looked like that for days, I’ve stopped noticing to be honest.”

Arthur stared at him, appalled. “Merlin!” he exclaimed. “You –you just –just bring me a comb, please!”

“Please?” repeated Merlin with raised eyebrows. “You weren’t even this polite when you _were_ royalty.”

Arthur was about to retort when Merlin bounded towards his bedroom. However, he seemed to have struck a sudden thought because he changed his direction midway and headed towards the little storeroom under the stairs instead.

Arthur watched curiously as Merlin returned with one hand behind his back, clearly hiding something.

“Here,” he said, presenting a comb and when Arthur got a good look at it, it felt like all the air had left his body.

There, in Merlin’s palm, was a beautifully gilded comb that looked utterly out of place in the modern house, just like Arthur felt most of the time.

“That’s –that’s the comb from when –from…before,” he stammered, barely able to believe that this tiny _object_ had survived the test of time, when so many other things –so many other _people_ from his former life hadn’t. It seemed impossible.

“The very same,” confirmed Merlin, carefully watching him with an inscrutably intense expression.

It seemed like something had lodged itself in his throat because Arthur could hardly string a sentence together anymore.

“You kept this? After all this time?” he breathed, blood rushing to his head and making him dizzy.

“Of course,” Merlin said softly –as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, and his eyes were so earnest that Arthur felt his stomach go aflutter.

 _Of course_ _he had kept it. Of course._

Arthur stared at the comb and then at Merlin, an unexpectedly fierce surge of feelings enveloping him.

Merlin was looking at him with wide eyes, gauging Arthur’s reaction, such pure honesty reflecting on his face that Arthur couldn’t help what he did next.

Overcome with unexplainable emotion, Arthur didn’t think any other course of action was more appropriate in that moment than to grab Merlin by the collar and kiss him hard on the mouth.

And…Merlin sank into it, coming completely undone, going weak in Arthur’s arms like he’d been waiting for this for over a millennium. He kissed Arthur back almost desperately, his hands on Arthur's neck and his thumb brushing over his pulse point...as if making sure he was real, that this was real. He wondered if Merlin could tell how fast his heart was beating.

He angled his head slightly, and Merlin let out a low whimpering noise that made Arthur go a little wild with want, thinking of other times he could make Merlin sound like that.

They slowed down eventually, but Arthur kept pressing soft insistent kisses to Merlin's lips and leaving him breathless, hoping to slowly melt away years of insecurity and fear and trauma…silently letting him know that Arthur was right here and he was never going to leave, never going to allow Merlin to be alone for so long again.

When they parted, Merlin leaned his forehead against Arthur’s, eyes closed and his breathing shallow.

“God, I missed you,” he murmured, so low that even Arthur could barely catch it.

A car horn blared outside _again_ , startling them.

Before they reluctantly separated, Arthur couldn't help but lightly squeeze the soft skin of Merlin’s hip, a promise for more to come.

The high of endorphins started fading soon and reality came crashing down on Arthur. He glanced nervously to the window and what was outside it.

Merlin’s eyes followed his gaze, and he quietly intertwined their fingers, giving him a little tug.

“Ready?” he asked, colour high on his cheeks.

Arthur swallowed hard, not feeling ready at all but slowly nodding.

They stepped out into the cold together and Arthur shivered a little, drawing his coat closer.

Merlin glanced at him, and before Arthur knew what was happening, delicious warmth was flowing through his body, emanating from where his hand was wrapped in Merlin's. He was just able to catch Merlin's eyes changing colour from gold to his usual blue and he barked out a laugh.

"This magic thing sure has its benefits, doesn’t it?" Arthur asked, shooting him a judgemental look but probably coming off as a besotted fool instead.

Merlin grinned, dimples digging deep into his cheeks and his eyes bright. Arthur felt himself going weak at the sight.

Well, at least that hadn't changed.

"Oh, you have no idea," answered Merlin, completely unaware of his effect on him.

As Arthur looked around this new era, this new world…he was intimidated and nervous and scared, yes but he also noticed that the trees were the same and so was the sky and so was Merlin…tightly clutching his hand and never leaving his side.

Arthur felt he couldn’t ask for more.

* * *

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and that was it :') I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I loved writing it. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who read Golden Strands, and left kudos and commented and just showed support in any way. I love you all so very much!  
> Do let me know what you thought of the story!
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](https://acciomeriin.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> Till next time!


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